


The Nocturne

by afterism



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Noir, Crack, Crossdressing, M/M, POV First Person, all the noir clichés!, an abundance of metaphors, the author had way too much fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterism/pseuds/afterism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was trying to catch a wink in my office when she waltzed into my life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this as part of an end-of-year, deanoning-my-anon-fic drive! Written for [this prompt](http://rotg-kink.dreamwidth.org/2200.html?thread=3568536#cmt3568536) on the kink meme, which just asked for Pitch looking stunning in a dress. I... went a bit further.
> 
> This fic isn't finished, and although I am absurdly fond of it and always thinking of writing more, I can't guarantee that will ever happen. Um, so, fair warning?

I was trying to catch a wink in my office when she waltzed into my life. It had been a long week - the Nightlight case had finally cracked, but not before three more goons found themselves sleeping with the fishes and I only just escaped my own date with a pair of concrete shoes by some quick talking and an even quicker crack of a whip to set the horses loose. It had been a tough case to close, but I'd been paid and the clients were safe to sleep in their beds again, and it was time I did the same, flicking off my desk lamp and settling back in my chair as the sickly light from the street lamps outside cut my office into ribbons - but then there she was, stepping out the shadows with long, long legs and a long, long black dress that clung to her like slick darkness, and all thoughts of sleep slipped through my fingers like water.

"Mr Sandman," she purred, a voice so low and husky like no dame I'd ever heard. "I need your help."

I've never met a man who was able to resist a beautiful dame in distress, and I wouldn't trust him if I did. I opened my mouth to reply but she crossed the room with the grace of a dancer, her hips hypnotic, and placed a picture on my desk before I could speak.

"I need you to find him," she said, and the light that slunk in through the blinds cut itself across her sharp face. She caught my eye and I knew I'd be taking the memory of those eyes to my bed, and to my grave - golden and heavy-lidded and far older than her perfectly smooth skin suggested, so pale it was almost grey.

One long finger tapped the desk, and I snapped back to myself in time to remember the photograph she'd placed in front of me. I leaned forward to flick my desk lamp back on and glanced down to see a wicked-looking kid smirking up at me, all platinum blond hair and rolled-up shirt sleeves, managing to make the fine waistcoat he was wearing look scruffy just by hanging it off him. "His name's Frost," she said, as I ran my eyes over the picture and tried to make it look like I wasn't trying to figure out if this was her boyfriend. He looked too young, but I'd been in the city long enough to know that anything was possible.

"He's a good kid, but..." she sighed as she trailed off, and I glanced up to see her staring past me, out the window. I turned, but beyond the blinds the street looked empty, all black pavement and puddles of pale light as the rain washed the grime down to the gutters. I turned back, and she had me fixed in her sights again. I should have minded. "I fear he's fallen in with a bad crowd, and I'd hate to think what could happen to an old friend if I wasn't there to help."

I raised my eyebrow at 'old', but she just held my gaze, as cold and unfathomable as the night. I could feel my blood rising with heat, and cleared my throat.

"So, will you help me? I can pay, of course," she said, pushing away from my desk and straightening up with a long, slow, arch of her spine that left me tongue-tied. I nodded, and she gifted me a small, sharp smile and a view of the long, pale slope of her neck, sweeping her midnight-black hair to the side and reaching over to grab my notebook and pen from beside me. She was flipping through it before I could protest, but she simply found a blank page and bent over my desk again to jot down a number and address. 

"Call me if you need anything. Ask for Ms. Black," she said, ripping it off and handing it to me. I nodded again, not quite trusting myself to speak, and she gave me one last lingering look before slipping out the door like she was used to slipping into the shadows. I breathed out, one long exhale that was almost a whistle, and gave myself a moment to remember the way the dress clung to her sinuous frame as she left before letting go of sweet dreams and picking up the picture again. The kid looked clean enough, bright-eyed and pale skin, his knuckles free of bruises from where they were clutched around what looked like a shepherd’s crook, but that just told me he hadn't been in the city long when this picture was taken. I flipped it over, and on the back there was date two months passed, and a name - Jack Frost.


	2. Chapter 2

When all you've got is a face and a name, you go see Tooth. Her apartment above the city was the kind of place where only the very brave and the very stupid would try to enter without an invite, half a mile out of the respectable side of town and only accessible from a fire escape she kept hauled up in the kind of alleyway even the drunks avoided. The rain had started again as I padded through the dark streets, my soft-soled shoes as useful as cardboard in the the grimy puddles spread across the pavements, and it was almost a relief to turn the corner into the backstreet, full of empty shadows and the lingering smell of sulphur.

I always kept a thin whip wrapped around my arm, hidden beneath my trenchcoat, and I pulled it out carefully as I scanned the darkness for anything that shouldn't be there, beyond the usual grit and garbage. The alley was empty, but I couldn't shake the feeling I was being watched, so with a flick of my wrist I sent the whip up to catch the last rung of the ladder and pulled it down as quickly as possible, wincing at the clattering echo that even the pounding rain couldn't swallow. I was up the steps in a flash and yanked the ladder back up behind me, and then in an instant I had pressed my back against the damp brickwork and was peering back at the mouth of the alleyway - something had flashed past, too fast to see in the low light, but hell if I was going to stick around to see what it was.

I scaled the rest of the fire escape as quickly as I could, wrapping my whip back around my arm as I went and keeping my steps as light as possible, but there was no doubt that Tooth knew I was here as the metal rang underneath me. I was out of breath and shape by the time I reached the top, but the light was on in the furthest of the three windows I could get to, a signal that I was welcome inside, so I didn't waste any time sliding along to it and prising my fingers under the edge of the window, slipping into the warmth of the lushly-furnished sitting room as soon as I'd made a gap big enough. I shut the window behind me like it would be enough to keep out the raining darkness, and allowed myself a moment to get my breath back as I looked around the cavernous room, filled with the kind of bohemian furniture and draping silks that I'd come to expect from Tooth, all rich and worn and full of memories. 

A small girl with feathers in her hair skipped through the half-open doorway, trailing ribbons behind her like a tail, and whistled high and shrill when she spotted me dripping onto the threadbare rug. Tooth glided in a moment later, billowing fabric in her wake like an exotic princess who'd spent too much time in the City; her finest silk pants matched with rough cotton scarves, and bright thread woven into the curls of hair that peeked out from under her golden headscarf. She shooed the girl out of the room, every movement quick and musical thanks to the multitude of bracelets that covered her wrists, and she beamed brightly as she grasped my hand between hers.

"Sandy! It's been too long," she trilled happily, her white smile showing nothing but delight, but I knew she could turn on a dime. It was dangerous coming here - I never knew what happened to the poor fools who found the lights on in the first two windows, and I prayed I never would - and it was downright suicidal without a gift, but I needed her help, and she knew it.

She pulled away and started fluttering around the room, unable to keep still. "Have you brought me something?" she asked me, sounding carefully offhand as another small girl ran into the room to hand her a small gold locket, letting Tooth look it over and nod before grabbing it back and disappearing just as quickly. No one knew how many children she had under her care, the countless girls that would run around my feet every time I dared to visit and flitted between the rooms like birds - there were rumours they were all hers, or they belonged to seven murdered sisters, or that she collected them when a debt couldn't be repaid - but the only thing I knew for certain is that any punk foolish enough to cross one of her girls would be eating through a straw for the rest of his sorry life. That's why they called her Tooth.

I pulled a brown paper-wrapped parcel out of my jacket pocket, and kept my head low to hide my smirk as she clapped with glee before taking it carefully between her thin hands. "For my girls?" she asked, and her smile turned to sunshine as I nodded. The pouch of gold dust was hard to come by, but I had my resources and with just a pinch her older girls, the ones who worked through the night, could have sweet dreams for as long as they needed. That was all the leverage I needed to get her to talk.

"What else have you got for me?" she sang, her voice sharp and lovely as she gave the parcel to another flighty girl and watched it disappear into the depths of her apartment. I pulled out the photograph of Jack Frost, and handed it to her. We had done this often enough that I didn't need to tell her anything: she knew what it meant when I only had a picture to give her, and I needed anything she had. 

"Oh," she sighed, touching a finger to the corner of his smile. I raised an eyebrow, expecting her to continue, but she just shook her head and flipped the picture over, scanning the words quickly before snapping back to his face. 

"I don't know him," she admitted after a long minute, and tried to hand it back to me. I was about to protest when another child skipped into the room, something clutched tightly in her small palm, and she squeaked when she saw Jack's portrait.

Tooth held up a hand, silencing me. I knew better than to argue when one of her girls was involved, but I couldn't stop myself leaning in closer when Tooth crouched down to speak to the girl, both whispering so fast and quiet I could only make out one word in ten. Something about 'north'?

I stepped back when Tooth stood up suddenly, fixing me with a look so I knew she was entirely unconvinced. The girl ran off, ribbons fluttering in her wake.

"I don't know him," she said again, and handed me his picture. There was no way to survive in this business as long as I had by trusting everything you hear, but a broad like Tooth was always a hot one to handle so I just folded my arms and waited for her to spill. She sighed, her soft face sadder than I'd seen in a long time, and just said, "I'm sorry, I wish I could help. He looks like a sweet kid."

I gestured like I was going to call back her girl, and suddenly Tooth was looming over me, her face darker and more terrifying than any backstreet dentist. "Baby doesn't know what she saw," Tooth snapped. "And whatever it was, it won't help you. I think it's time you left, Sandman," she said, and zipped over to the window to open it for me.

Damn. There was nothing more I could do, not when Tooth had made up her mind, so I tipped my hat to her as polite as a pilot and climbed back out into the howling rain. 

That had been a bust, but there might be something in the fact that Tooth's Baby obviously recognised the kid. Trying to follow her was out of the question - Tooth's girls were the smallest and fastest little thieves in the city, able to find their way into the most secure building and escape just as easily, so there was no way I could keep up without getting into a whole pile of stinking trouble. 

It looked like I only had one option: it was time to go see Ms. Black, and find out everything she knew. I'd be lying if I said part of me wasn't ready to sit up and beg at the thought of seeing that bewitching dame again, but I knew I had to be on my guard. There was something wrong about this case, something lurking in the shadows, but the darkness was my speciality and I'd be damned if I let it take me by surprise.


End file.
